


The Brave Shall Live Forever

by flashofwildcreatures



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2020-02-27 14:54:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18741328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashofwildcreatures/pseuds/flashofwildcreatures
Summary: Loki gambles with Thanos and loses. (An imagining written in March 2018, before Infinity War.)





	The Brave Shall Live Forever

 

Loki didn’t want to feel it.

–

When Loki had finally gotten that which he’d asked for – _a good seat from which to watch Asgard burn_ – when the heat from the explosion licked the back of his neck as he appeared on the loading deck of the Sakaarian freighter, he’d felt… stunned. And pleased. And terrified, as he looked down at the glowing Tesseract in his palm. Only a sliver of shame had crept up his spine as he thought about the books that had just been incinerated, and with them, thousands of years of wisdom.

But as he wove silently through the proud Asgardian citizens-turned-intergalactic-refugees, he looked at the faces around him, some wrought with centuries of lines, some mere months from their mothers, and thought, “Yes, but these books are alive and well.”

–

Then the ship appeared, blocking all light.

Then the war raged.

Then _(oh god)_. Then, and then, and then.

So much, shattered.

His brother was gone. Loki told himself that Thor had stolen a page from his own playbook, faking his death in the far reaches of space in an attempt to throw Thanos off their scent.

But at night when Loki tried to sleep, he woke up choking, his lungs sucked empty with grief.

 _We are born, we live, we die._ Odin’s words echoed back to him, distorted by pain.

–

Loki was no fool. He’d known it would be a tremendous risk, to stand face to face with Thanos after all these years, to finally offer what he had once failed to deliver. But it was his best chance to save what was left of the only home he’d ever known.

After he’d handed up the Tesseract to Thanos, his best hope was that the Titan warlord would try to kill him and leave the rest of the Asgardians untouched. He was quick and cunning and knew he could outwit the warlord.

Somewhere, though, he knew that he’d dodged his death at Thanos’s hand long enough. Since the moment he let go of Gungnir and fallen into the abyss, he had known deep down that he would end up here.

Thanos turned the cube in his hand and chuckled. He turned to leave, then looked back at Loki.

“By the way, the deal is off,” Thanos smirked, and before Loki could throw a projection or produce his knives, the mad titan snapped his fingers. In that instant, every Asgardian on the ship began to scream, agony ripping them into shreds. Panic flooded Loki’s veins.

He whipped forth his blades and shouted to Thanos, “Wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?”

Thanos laughed and, like an impatient bully besting a child, pounded his fist against Loki’s chest. Loki felt the impact like a thousand suns exploding in his heart. His body began to tremble, the heat slowly melting everything within him. He struggled to stand.

“These violent delights have violent ends,” Thanos scowled, before landing his boot against Loki’s chest, sending him flying. “Enjoy Asgard’s last act,” he called over his shoulder as he transported himself off the ship.

The citizens’ voices continued to keen in waves of torment. Loki pressed his hands to his chest, trying to heal Thanos’s blow so he could reach his people and do whatever was left for him to do to help

But by the time he climbed down the stairs to the deck on which he’d left them huddling, terrified, the screams had begun to fade. The sight struck him harder than Thanos’s fist — every remaining Asgardian, strewn on the floor, dead or dying. He stepped among them, every footfall sending scorching pain through his body, looking for anyone he could help

–

Loki didn’t want to feel it. He didn’t want to, but he could no longer keep it at bay. The shockwaves of all these souls being ripped from their bodies pulsed against his skin, sending him to his knees. The metal walls of the freighter grew silent as the last living Asgardians drew breath no more. The ship shuddered beneath him; there was no one left to pilot it. Soon, it would drift off course and disappear forever, a mass grave lost among the stars.

Loki pushed his hands against the ground, willing himself to get up, to fight the searing heat inside his body. _Think_ , he growled to himself, but there were no more exits, no more back doors, no more deals to be struck.

–

Then above the dense silence he heard a baby cry out. He forced himself to stand, searching the floor for the source of the cry. He saw her instantly, an infant no more than five months old, clinging clumsily to her dead mother, terrified. He gathered the scraps of his strength and strode to the child, falling again to his knees at her side.

She was dying, too. None of them would escape Thanos’s cruelty. Her fear was palpable. He reached to pick her up but her little fists held tight to the fabric of her mother’s tunic. Her cries became jagged as her body began to fail. Loki’s heart twisted at the sound.

Without thinking, Loki placed his palm on her forehead and summoned her into her happiest memory. She instantly calmed and lay her cheek against her mother’s breast.

She was young, but she remembered so much. The recent terror of life on Asgard had barely registered for her – her mother had shielded her from it with her protective love. Her memories were gentle, bright, vivid.

A simple smile spread across her lips as she closed her eyes and exhaled her last breath. Peace. Amidst this slaughter. Loki smiled.

As his palm slipped from her forehead, he felt himself pulled backward into his own memory. He was younger than she when Laufey cast him out to die, when Odin collected him into a life that would never suit him.

What does that baby remember? he wondered, as death crawled through his body.

Loki was born only days before the battle in which Odin and the Asgardians decimated his birthplace. The cries of his mother and the cries of war blended into the same sorrow

All that he had forgotten unfurled inside of him as he closed his eyes and gave in to the memories.

The scent of his birth mother before Laufey tore him from her.  
The sound of ice crackling in the moons’ light.  
His own infant cries echoing off the frozen rocks of the temple.  
Then the warmth of Frigga’s arms around his small body, the way it felt to be looked at with love.  
And the straw-headed little face peering over Frigga’s shoulder at Loki curious, wide-eyed, _forever that fool–_

The last coherent words in his mind were those that no one would speak over his dead body, that he would have to say for himself, forever alone:

 _Loki, I bid you take your place in_  
_the halls of Valhalla,_  
_Where the brave shall live forever._  
_Nor shall we mourn but rejoice_  
_for those that have died the_  
_glorious death._


End file.
